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Authors: T. L. Haddix

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A couple of hours later, Gordon’s concern had morphed into full-blown alarm, though he hid that reaction from Detective Hart. Using one of the small meeting rooms at FBI headquarters in Louisville, they had reviewed the contents of the package Amy Lynn had received. They were damning, and Gordon could well understand why the Bledsoes had been so upset. Aside from the card and the letter, which were upsetting enough, the killer had included Kiely’s garter and the daughter’s iPod.

Detective Hart had a theory about when they had been taken. “Representative Bledsoe and his wife held a fundraiser at their home this past weekend. Most of the activities were out of doors, but anyone could have sneaked into house.” He handed Gordon a document. “Here’s the guest list, and we should have the list of the staff who were present shortly.”

Gordon read through the list and was surprised by a few of the names. “What kind of fundraiser was it?”

Detective Hart stretched his arms over his head as he answered, “Barbecue, bluegrass and booze. Typical rustic country club fundraiser, fifteen hundred dollars a plate. Not cheap.” Gordon looked astonished. Hart shrugged. “Apparently it was full of coal operators and old eastern Kentucky money, which are usually two sides of the same coin. You can see from the list that there were over a hundred people there.”

Gordon shook his head. “The representative must be popular,” he said. “Fifteen hundred a plate, in this economy? For a guy that no one outside Kentucky has heard of? Damn.” He glanced back at the list. “Anyone on this stand out to you?”

“Not really,” Hart responded. “Oh, there are a couple names included that I hadn’t expected to see, and a few I did expect but weren’t there, but nothing that sent up any red flags.” He laughed at Gordon’s continued amazement. “Come on, Gordon. You can’t be that surprised at the money. How long have you worked in this office? You should know by now that some of the wealthiest people in this state live over near Ashland and Pikeville. A good chunk of them are on that list.”

“I’ve worked mainly in this division and with the field offices in the western part of the state. And yes, I’ve heard the rumors about eastern Kentucky money, but this is the first time I’ve really seen evidence of its existence with my own two eyes.” Gordon shook the paper for emphasis.

Detective Hart snorted. “I guess you’ve never worked much with Kentucky politics, then. That’s a whole other world, man, and the stuff that goes on in the eastern half of the state? It’d make your hair curl.” He changed the subject. “Why is it that you’re so convinced Chase Hudson is innocent? You think the Bledsoes are deliberately trying to railroad him?”

“I don’t know if
railroad
is the right word for it, Greg. I think it’s more that Kiely’s family wants it to be Chase so badly, they’re hell-bent determined to make it stick whether it’s the truth or not. Add to that the fact that a conviction wouldn’t hurt Bledsoe politically right now, and I’m concerned the investigation is going to go in a completely wrong direction just when it’s heating up again. That’s all.”

“So you really don’t think Hudson killed her?”

Gordon was shaking his head before Hart finished asking the question. “Absolutely not. My friendship with Chase aside, he has about as airtight an alibi as he could have. The night Kiely disappeared, he was working in the Commonwealth Attorney’s office. There were several unimpeachable witnesses who saw him,” he said. “You’ve read the case file. What do you think?”

“I think witness statements have to be taken with a grain of salt, even coming out of the CA’s office.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said incredulously. The somberness of the detective’s expression triggered Gordon’s instincts. “What aren’t you saying?”

“Look at that case in Indiana—the state trooper. He had eleven eyewitnesses. Didn’t do him much good,” Hart reminded Gordon as he stood. “Besides, several of the witnesses from the original investigation aren’t available any more. Out of the six who gave statements, three are dead, and one’s so wasted on drugs she can’t remember what she had for breakfast this morning, much less a late shift she worked ten years ago.”

“That leaves two reliable witnesses,” Gordon argued as he walked the other man out. “One’s your current prosecutor.”

“It does, and he is,” Hart conceded. “However, both of those witnesses left the office for a late dinner break. They were gone for about ninety minutes, and that’s ninety minutes your guy has no alibi.”

They were quiet as they waited for the elevator. Once they got on and the doors closed, Gordon asked, “What are the chances you’d be willing to turn this investigation over to us?”

Hart smiled, and Gordon couldn’t help thinking the expression was a little smug. “Not great,” he responded. “There’s no reason for us to do that.”

“Not even if it leads to the capture of Kiely’s killer?”

The detective snorted. “And what makes you think you have a better shot at that than we do, Agent Gordon?”

“Look, no offense meant, Greg, but as good as the LPD is, they don’t have the reach of the FBI.”

“No, and we also don’t have someone with a vested interest in seeing the best suspect we have walk away scot-free, either.” For a minute, Gordon couldn’t believe his ears, but then the detective smiled with that same smug expression from before.

It was all Gordon could do to hold his tongue, and he counted to twenty, trying to calm down. He used the walk through the lobby to do so. “I could say the same thing, Detective. Except I think you probably have an interest in seeing Chase Hudson on death row. Now, what exactly do you think that interest might be based around?” he drawled. “Money or power?”

The detective’s face turned red, and Gordon was surprised when the man let the remarks go without a comment. “Agent, you do what you have to do, and I’ll do the same,” he said flatly. “You will call me with the results from the lab about this package, right? I don’t need to worry about taking it to the state crime lab?”

“No, detective. I’ll definitely be in touch.” Gordon watched as the man turned and went to his vehicle without another word.

“Arrogant son of a bitch,” Gordon muttered as he walked back inside. “Now I know you’re up to something. If you’d been innocent, you would have bitten my head off when I called you crooked.”

Chapter 11

 

It had been a quiet but busy week for Chase, a fact for which he was grateful. He had managed to get the security system installed in the guesthouse, and he figured Annie had been glad to see the back of him and Murphy. There had been an unfortunate incident with some of Annie’s lingerie, which Murphy had appropriated on the last day of their stay. Chase had offered to make restitution, but Annie wouldn’t accept. From the way she had slammed the door as they were leaving, Chase knew he had some big-time apologizing to do. Looking back, his laughter over the cat’s antics probably hadn’t helped the matter, to say the least. The fact that it happened when the security guy was there installing the system had just added injury to insult.

That had been Sunday afternoon. It was now late Thursday morning, and Chase thought he had figured out exactly what he needed to do to make the incident up to Annie. His salvation had come in the guise of an eighty-year-old client.

Nancy Bolen was a sharp, no-nonsense lady who had been a client of Chase’s for nearly two years. The mother of Leroy’s current mayor, William Bolen, and the widow of the president of Leroy’s largest bank, Nancy wielded a great deal of influence throughout Olman County society. Despite being something of a mysterious recluse, or perhaps because of it, she was regarded as something of a queen in the area’s upper social circles. Nancy didn’t suffer fools gladly, and she wasn’t close to what anyone would consider a warm and cuddly grandmother. The acerbic woman was one of Chase’s favorite people.

Every two months, Nancy met with Chase to go over her estate, and every time she came into the office, she brought him a challenge. This morning, she brought a bouquet of showy flowers, which she had thrust at Chase as he moved to greet her.

Surprised, he’d responded with a quip and a grin. “Nancy, does this mean we’re courting?” Nancy just snorted and took a seat in his office. Chase asked Gina to get a vase for the flowers and followed his client.

She waited for him to close the door and take his own seat before she spoke. “Do you know what those are, young man?”

Chase shook his head as he fingered a blossom. “No, but they look familiar. Are these from your gardens?” Nancy’s gardens were some of the most extensive in the region, and the most coveted, even though very few people had been privileged to gain entry into them.

At Chase’s response, Nancy tilted her head to the side, a puzzled look on her face. “They are from my garden, yes. You say they look familiar?” When Chase nodded, her gaze narrowed. “I find that very interesting, Counselor. As far as I was aware, you haven’t been to my home.”

Chase quirked an eyebrow. “I haven’t been, and you know it. But I don’t understand why that has anything to do with these flowers.”

“Those flowers are an heirloom cabbage rose, a rose which is quite rare in this day and age. I’m not aware of anyone hereabouts who has anything remotely similar,” she informed him.

His face cleared, and Chase smiled. “Now that makes sense. I have a friend who collects heirloom seeds and grows the plants in her greenhouse,” he explained. “Well, she
did
collect them. She had a fire recently, and the greenhouse was destroyed.”

“Are you talking about the young lady who owned the flower shop downtown?” she asked. “The one whose name yours has been linked with in recent months?”

To his chagrin, Chase felt a flush crawl up his neck, but he answered her directly. “Yes, that’s her. Annie Jameson-Tucker.”

Nancy studied him without speaking for a minute, her finger tapping at her lips. “She must be devastated to have lost all her plants, I would imagine.”

“She is,” he confirmed. “She’s planning to rebuild, but it’s been a rough few weeks for her.”

“For you as well, I would imagine,” Nancy said. “If she’s the kind of person I suspect, given the sparkle in your eyes when you talk about her, I’d like to meet her. I would think someone who cares enough to preserve and care for heirloom plants in their spare time, as well as working with flowers in their professional life, would take a lot of solace in her plants. Where is she now? As I recall, she lived over that shop.”

“She’s staying at the guest house at my parents’ farm,” he said. “She’s been doing a little bit with Mom’s flowers, but she’s afraid to step on her toes.”

Nancy nodded, coming to a conclusion. “I’ll tell you what, young Hudson. If you think she’d be interested, you bring your young lady out to my house. Either this weekend or the next would be good. She and I can discuss flowers, and maybe I can do something to make her feel a little less devastated.”

Chase had been humbled and not a little touched by Nancy’s offer, and he’d told her so. She’d waved him on, and they’d concluded their business. He promised Nancy he would bring Annie out, and as she left, she reached up and patted his cheek the way she usually did, with a little extra smile in her eyes.

That had been this morning and now, at nearly noon, Chase was finishing up the morning’s paperwork and trying to get the nerve up to call Annie. Finally reaching the end of his patience with himself, he picked up his cell phone and made the call.

She answered on the third ring. “I was wondering if you were going to call me, or if you were still running scared,” she drawled.

Chase groaned, ashamed he hadn’t called sooner. “Yeah, well, I’m still embarrassed by my problem child’s behavior,” he confessed.

To his relief, she snorted. “How is the demon, anyhow?”

“He’s moping,” he confided. “I think he misses you. He knows he did something wrong, and he knows you’re mad at him.”

Annie sighed. “Why is it that I’m the one whose underwear was assaulted, yet I feel guilty?”

Chase couldn’t hold back a laugh. “He does have that effect on people, you know. Listen, the reason I called—are you busy Saturday?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe. Why, what do you have in mind?”

“Let’s just say that I think if you give me a few hours, the experience will more than make up for Murphy’s behavior. It will probably be an all-day excursion, though.”

BOOK: Shadows from the Grave
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